


Easy

by despitethewives (choirboyharem)



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23078806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choirboyharem/pseuds/despitethewives
Summary: “Stop complaining,” Drew said firmly, pulling his glasses off and folding them next to his pillow. “Stop complaining about this nice, prison-issued, cardboard-y, postage-stamp mattress. Negativity’s so toxic.”
Relationships: Danny Gonzalez/Drew Gooden
Comments: 2
Kudos: 86





	Easy

**Author's Note:**

> i forgot i also had this in my drafts! i write normal fics sometimes, i promise. 
> 
> this is set during the watdp tour.

“I can’t fucking move—“

“There’s space. There’s a whole inch behind you.”

“There’s a vent in my way. It’s, like, digging into my back. Fuck, just get on top of me.”

“Bossy,” Danny muttered, doing as he was told. The back of his head thunked against the top bunk and he whined helplessly. “Jesus, fuck this.”

“Stop complaining,” Drew said firmly, pulling his glasses off and folding them next to his pillow. “Stop complaining about this nice, prison-issued, cardboard-y, postage-stamp mattress. Negativity’s so toxic.”

Drew looked fuzzy and foggy around the edges, especially hidden behind the curtain. Danny didn’t have to look at him to hear the grin in his voice, though. Fluttery and flushed and buzzing with affection and glee, he closed the gap between them and pressed his mouth against Drew’s. 

It wasn’t a lot of room. It wasn’t, it was miserable, but they didn’t need a lot. This was fine. This was enough. They needed just enough room for Danny to be able to entangle his legs with Drew’s and kiss him soundly, hasty enough that there was zero technique involved and it was just a mess of tongue and teeth, broken into pieces with middle-school-aged laughter. 

“Hey, Danny,” Drew started to say, kissing the corner of Danny’s mouth, fingers running over individual wrinkles and creases in the shirt underneath his hand, “can—can I ask you a question?”

“Depends.” 

“On what?” 

“On—ah.” Danny shuddered, his eyes falling shut when Drew tilted his own head up to nip at his neck. “On, like... I can’t remember.”

“So that means I can ask you a question.” Drew pushed his hand between their bodies, fumbling at Danny’s jeans. “Right?”

“Sure.” Just as impatient, Danny tried to offer Drew as much space as their box would allow. “What?”

“How old are you that you’re not able to kiss without having a mental breakdown? Twenty-five, right?” 

“Yeah, well, it’s just me anticipating that you’re gonna be an asshole and make fun of me for it, so.” As if just to prove Drew’s point wrong, Danny leaned in to kiss him again, sliding his tongue over Drew’s and sighing against his mouth. He felt Drew falter and give in before making an effort to regain momentum, pushing Danny’s jeans down as much as his reach would allow. 

It was so easy. It felt so easy. Miraculously, they’d managed to keep things from getting weird, but maybe it was just because they’d always managed to keep things from getting weird. 

It was just on tour. It was nothing, it was easy, it was fine, it was okay, it was all just on tour. It was easy now that they were doing it and it would be easy again when they weren’t. When they were both back home and they were separated and they were respectively with Laura and Amanda again, it would be easier still. 

But it didn’t matter. That was then and this was now. And now meant Danny’s hair entangling itself with static as it dragged across the planks of the bunk above them, it’s moving backwards so he could half-undress Drew, just being a good friend. “I’m not bad at kissing,” Danny insisted. “I’m pretty goddamn good at it, actually.”

“Yeah, I’m so sure.” Drew pushed himself up on his elbows and winced when his head hit the top bunk this time. “Motherfucker. I don’t think your mouth was made for kissing.”

Danny snorted. “Wow, nice bait, but, uh, yeah, no. Not tonight. My jaw’s already sore enough from the past couple days.” It was a weird little dance he had to do in between Drew’s spidery legs in order to get his pants off. How fitting. 

“Wait, what?” Drew snickered. “What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Danny’s brow furrowed. “What are _you_ talking about?”

“You sucking my dick.” 

“Oh, okay, like, a fake-out. That’s what they call it in comedy, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard. C’mere.” 

And, because Danny was whipped, he complied. He slipped back into Drew’s arms like the right key for a lock. He let out a soft, needy little moan in between Drew’s lips, set alight from the sudden, blissful suffocation of skin against skin. Danny rolled his hips and Drew’s fingernails curled into Danny’s back, biting through his shirt. Danny whimpered and shivered, burying his face in the crook of Drew’s neck. 

“Love seeing you on stage, you know,” Drew whispered. He pushed at Danny, rolling the two of them onto their sides. A sharp, hot breath escaped Danny’s mouth, his tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip. He didn’t know if it was from the thrill of spontaneity or because he was dangerously close to falling off the edge of the bunk. “I know you’re always nervous, but when you lose yourself in it, it’s, fuck, it’s kind of beautiful. You’re kind of beautiful.”

Danny swallowed and closed his eyes. “Drew—“ He cut himself off with a gasp the second Drew clasped spit-slick fingers around him, fisting their cocks together. No time to think about long-term (or even short-term) implications. Because it didn’t matter. This was what mattered. Danny caught Drew’s mouth in his own again as he reached down and grabbed at Drew’s wrist, blind and greedy. 

It wasn’t really any different from how the past few weeks had been. It wasn’t. They were cute and things were easy and fun and simple and perfect. Everything was perfect. 

The heat and bizarre, freakish longing in Danny’s gut from being beautiful to Drew wasn’t perfect, but, well, whatever. It felt like a blinking neon sign that read _ha ha yeah it’s cool_ , flashing it as an automatic response. It’s cool. It’s whatever, you know? Danny could take it, swallow it, and digest it easily. He was the bitch for not throwing it out along with everything else they’d said to each other over the last year or so while planning the tour. 

Danny was stressing himself out and it was beyond fucking stupid. Maybe he really was in middle school. The past decade-and-a-half had been a fever dream. He distracted himself by pulling Drew’s shirt down and kissing his collarbone, fucking up into his hand. Drew snapped out something unintelligible between his teeth, his voice sharp and rough in his throat, and just the tone of it made Danny’s dick twitch. 

It was easy. When he’d regained at least a few of his senses post-orgasm, the flutter Danny felt in his chest from Drew’s breathless, fond laugh and smile was easy. The slow, loose kiss afterwards was easy. 

It was soft and sweet and it was all just on tour and it was so, so fucking easy. 


End file.
